Month: August 2013

Health. I’ve been going at Mach five since is started this new job, and the wear is starting to show. How do you quantify the value of compensation that involves merely getting to a computer in the morning? I’m trying to do the things I need to do to be healthy, but just getting through the week can be a lot of work sometimes. I don’t see very well. I don’t walk very well. I need to use the bathroom a lot. I can’t drive anymore (And, yes, the ‘Stang is still for sale….). These are things that come along with my condition. Do I still have things to offer? Sure, which brings me to….

Work. I haven’t written much about what I’m doing lately, but I feel like the people I’m answering to are only doing the bare minimum to get by. I’m also expected to think that’s peachy-keen. Well, I don’t, and never will. I understand working in haste. I also understand delivering products that don’t even approach adequacy, much less quality. Some of my tweets the past couple of months may have seemed obtuse because of that. Doing bad work quickly doesn’t excuse the immorality that is doing bad work just for a paycheck. And, again, if you spend a lot of time splitting hairs between moral and ethical conduct, you likely understand, or care about, neither. I want the opportunity to do good work. I hope there’s some employer out there who cares more about that than the extra letters I, or someone else, bought to put after my name. (Hint: Yes, if you’re looking for my services, I’m listening….And I will never give the bare minimum, even if that’s what you’re giving me in return.)

Speaking of more letters, I don’t know what I should do about potentially going back to school. Sarah is excited to do it; I can’t say I share her enthusiasm. I’m thrilled for her, of course, but I really don’t know how much use I’d get out of going back. For now, I’m going to worry about helping her get where she wants to be, then I’ll look again.

757.org is functioning better than it has in a long, long time. I really don’t have an idea exactly what its future is, but I’m happy with where I’ve gotten it this year. A lot of the lingering problems relate to stale PHP around in various places. *sigh*

And that’s where I’m going to shut up for now. If you’re looking to get in touch with me, my phone number hasn’t changed since 1999. I’m still available via E-Mail at sean@757.org. There’s much gluttony to entertain after this shitty-ass summer.

“Well, don’t want to sound like a dick or nothin’, but, ah… it says on your chart that you’re fucked up. Ah, you talk like a fag, and your shit’s all retarded. What I’d do, is just like… like… you know, like, you know what I mean, like…” — Dr. Lexus

“Tis better to be silent and be thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt.” — Abraham Lincoln (as credited on the Intertubes, so it must be true.)

I worked in broadcast for years. There’s a difference between revising something so it’s understandable for your audience, and completely changing the meaning of it.

If you view your audience as idiotic, you might not understand that difference. You might also find yourself worried more about graphics, and whether your document is littered with enough catch phrases.

You might also spend a lot of time in soliloquy, interrupted only by rhetorical queries to the audience about your correctness.

Last fall, I was working on a paper for Shmoocon. I’d gotten about four pages in, and started rebutting some of the arguments I knew I’d get. I didn’t have an answer for one, not even a glib one, so I gave up. (And now my scarred-up brain is thinking of the derogatory political term, “Glibertarian.”)

Too much of what I’ve sen lately in IT is building bigger in the name of sekurity. “Well, you have to do x. Y says you have to, right?”

But when you query on where y says whatever it is it’s supposed to say, “Well, you know.” No, I don’t. I couldn’t find it. If I could have, I wouldn’t have asked the question.

Am I dissatisfied with my current work situation? Yes. Is there anything I can do about it? Not right now, at least.